


Trespass Sweetly Urged

by Ameera, NoOneKnowsIWriteThis



Series: Loyal Son of Tain [1]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: AU where Garak is the head of the Obsidian Order and Dukat is an exile, Don't start a diplomatic incident Julian, Episode: s01e03 Past Prologue, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 17:18:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11810622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ameera/pseuds/Ameera, https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoOneKnowsIWriteThis/pseuds/NoOneKnowsIWriteThis
Summary: “The Councillor touched your shoulders,” Dukat stated. When Julian nodded, he continued, “For Cardassians the shoulders are near a...sensitive area. It’s not a place you would touch someone you’d just met unless you were trying to…” Dukat chose his next word carefully, “proposition them.”Julian’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open. “P-proposition?” he stammered. “You’re sure?”“Very brazenly too,” Dukat confirmed with a pointed look.





	Trespass Sweetly Urged

Kira met Dukat for lunch at their usual table. This wasn’t a meeting she relished, but it was essentially part of her job as the highest ranking Bajoran officer on the station. Dukat’s acknowledgement and acceptance of his daughter Tora Ziyal, as well as his subsequent exile had earned him some strange allies among the Bajorans, though most were not willing to forgive the former Prefect of Bajor, despite his fall from grace. He was forbidden from setting foot on Bajor, exiled from Cardassia, and essentially a prisoner on the station serving out a lifetime sentence of community service.

Kira had passed off the job of checking in with Dukat to Odo, but the former prefect had sought her out, asking for advice for helping Ziyal connect with her Bajoran heritage as well as her Cardassian side. As long as the topic stuck to Dukat’s daughter, the man was actually almost pleasant company, since his love for her, at least, seemed genuine.

Unfortunately, Kira had already had her fill of Cardassians for the day. The senior staff had been dragged to the airlock in their dress uniforms to greet Councillor Garak, a diplomatic representative from Cardassia.

In Kira’s mind there were two main types of Cardassians. The first were usually the swaggering military types, pompous and condescending, and often more than willing to use force to get what they wanted. This was what Dukat had been like before his exile, and though his situation had humbled him quite a bit, sometimes it still slipped through. The second kind were sneaky and manipulative, they spoke sweet words and then targeted your weakest points as soon as they’d been identified. Councillor Garak struck Kira as the second kind. He had smiled and seemed friendly and polite, like any half-decent diplomat, but there was something about him that struck her as untrustworthy, and she had a feeling that it wasn’t just her well-justified suspicion of all Cardassians.

Dukat had started by asking Kira about major Bajoran artists, Ziyal had shown some interest in painting and wanted some Bajoran inspiration as well as Cardassian. However, he lost the train of the conversation as he watched Councillor Garak enter the replimat, stroll over to the table occupied by the station’s new Starfleet CMO, and lay his hands on the young man’s shoulders. Dukat watched, his mouth agape, as the Councillor slid his hands away in a blatant caress, his fingers teasing lightly at the doctor’s neck in a motion only kept from being completely obscene by the Starfleet uniform’s high collar, before taking the empty seat at the doctor’s table.

“Oh my,” Dukat murmured, drawing Kira’s attention from her plate. Her brow furrowed as she looked at him, then she followed his gaze to where Garak was predatorily watching the wide-eyed doctor stammer out some sort of sentence as his hands nervously batted at the plant in the center of the table.

“Eugh.” Kira’s nose crinkled in disgust. “The doctor is eating with Councillor Garak?”

“Garak seems to have invited himself,” Dukat explained, not mentioning the very public proposition that had been the Councillor’s opening move. “I think the good doctor is too frightened to say no.”

Surprisingly, Kira smirked. “Well, better him than me. Dr. Bashir could use a good scare.” Calling her home ‘the frontier’ had not helped her impression of a man she hadn’t been fond of to begin with.

“You don't like him?” Dukat wasn't surprised by this. Kira only grudgingly accepted the Starfleet garrison as necessary.

Kira’s gaze snapped back to Dukat. “Brilliant deduction, Dukat! Should I praise the Cardassian mind now?” she asked in a sharp and sarcastic tone.

Dukat glanced at Kira, but kept his attention on the other table where the doctor was completely transfixed by Garak’s stare. “Could it be, Major, that you don't like him because he may harbor Cardassian sympathies?”

“Well, I doubt that. He  _ is _ Federation.”

“True. But why would Garak go to him? Perhaps this is not their first meeting.” Dukat doubted Garak would approach the doctor without some sort of ulterior motive. After all, before Dukat’s exile, Garak had been one of the highest ranked members of the Obsidian Order. With Tain’s retirement, he'd likely become even more powerful.

Kira let out a quick exasperated sigh. “Dukat, I said I didn't like the man. I didn't say he was a traitor or a spy. This is his first posting, I just find him to be annoying and ignorant.”

Dukat considered this. If the two had only just met that made Garak’s incredibly forward approach somehow even more bold. “So there is no way they've ever met before and yet Garak pursues the doctor so brazenly?”

Garak stood, clearly preparing to leave, but he paused and placed one hand on the doctor's shoulder, scandalously close to his neck. Dukat gaped.

Kira glanced back at the other table just as Garak removed his hand and strolled away, smiling his polite smile. “Pursues?” she asked.

Dukat closed his mouth and shook his head to clear the image from it. “In a manner of speaking.”

-

Julian’s pulse was racing as he watched Garak leave the replimat. His heart was pounding in his ears. _What just happened?_ _Was Garak serious about becoming friends or was that just diplomat talk? He has the most piercing blue eyes._ Julian took a few deep breaths to steady himself.

_ I was just approached by Councillor- wait, he told me to dispense with the title, ‘just plain, simple Garak’. No one is going to believe me.  _ Julian closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, trying to will his heartbeat under control. After a few moments, he let out a sigh, opened his eyes and looked around. Kira and Dukat were quickly turning their attentions to their meals, clearly having been staring at him before. A grin spread across Julian’s face as he went to confront the two.

“See anything interesting?” he asked them giddily. Kira snorted.

“The slippery bastard probably just thinks he can weasel Starfleet secrets out of you,” she said, viciously stabbing her meal with her fork. Julian’s grin slipped into what was almost a cocky smirk.

“Well, he won’t get them from me,” he promised.

“Tell me, doctor,” Dukat interjected, “what exactly did you talk about?”

Julian’s expression grew more thoughtful, though he was still smiling. “He said he wanted to have a more personal discussion with me, that he was hoping to possibly become friends, though I’m not sure how sincere that was. He suggested that we could do a literature exchange to better understand each other’s cultural views.” Julian shrugged. “Then he left.”

Dukat’s eyes narrowed. “I’d be very careful with him if I were you.” Julian opened his mouth to protest, but Dukat cut him off. “How much do you know about Cardassian anatomy?”

Julian was clearly taken off-guard by the question. “Not much,” he answered eventually. “The medical banks were wiped along with everything else.” He raised an eyebrow, curious where Dukat was going with this line of questioning.

“The Councillor touched your shoulders,” Dukat stated. When Julian nodded, he continued, “For Cardassians the shoulders are near a...sensitive area. It’s not a place you would touch someone you’d just met unless you were trying to…” Dukat chose his next word carefully, “proposition them.”

Julian’s eyes widened and his mouth fell open. “P-proposition?” he stammered. “You’re sure?”

“Very brazenly too,” Dukat confirmed with a pointed look. “If you’d been Cardassian, he would have been touching your ridges when he left.” Julian’s eyes somehow became even wider then he ran off.

-

“Commander!” Julian called, leaping out of the turbolift before it stopped.

“Yes, doctor?” Sisko replied, splitting his focus between Julian and his work.

“Sir, could you clarify Starfleet’s policy on fraternization?” he asked.

In the background he could hear Chief O’Brien comment, “Didn’t seem to need much clarification before.”

Sisko glanced across the room at Jadzia, then looked back at Julian, eyebrow raised. “What exactly do you need clarification on?”

“Well, you see, it's about Garak,” Julian explained.

“The Councillor?” Sisko asked. “What about him?”

Julian took a step closer and lowered his voice. “He just approached me in the replimat and…” He hesitated, biting his lip. “Dukat says Garak tried to, um, proposition me…sir.” When Sisko didn't immediately respond, Julian pressed on. “S-so, I was hoping for some guidance on how to handle that.”

Sisko let out a sigh that was half relief, half regretful. “Doctor, just because Garak is Cardassia’s representative, that doesn’t mean that you have to do whatever he wants. You're allowed to decline. If he causes political issues because you won't be with him, that's an issue we'll deal with. But Starfleet would never have an officer enter into a physical relationship with someone for diplomacy. Don't worry."

“Right. Of course. Thank you,” Julian replied as a nervous chuckle escaped his lips. His thought,  _ But what if I want to accept?,  _ went unasked.

-

After his shift ended, Julian headed to Quark’s. It had been an overwhelming day and he still wasn't sure how he was going to deal with Garak’s advance, assuming it was even serious and not a strange joke.

_ Don't start a diplomatic incident in your first week on the station, Julian.  _

As he entered the bar he noticed the subject of his thoughts sitting at a table, partially hidden by a staircase. Garak smiled at him and raised his glass invitingly.

_ Probably best to let him down easily,  _ Julian thought as he crossed to Garak’s table.  _ You know how to do this. Just set professional boundaries. _

“Hello, doctor,” Garak greeted. “Please, join me.”

Instinctively, Julian smiled. “Thank you, I think I will,” he replied. For a moment it seemed like Garak's eyes were looking somewhere past him, then Julian blinked and Garak was completely focused on him.

“I was just considering our proposed literature exchange,” Garak stated before taking a sip of his drink.

“O-oh?” Julian asked, keenly wishing he had a drink of his own so he knew what to do with his hands.

“Perhaps we could begin tonight, in my quarters? At 2055 hours?” Garak smiled at him. “I must admit, I'm quite eager to see what books you’ll recommend.”

“Sounds lovely!” Julian replied eagerly.  _ That is not what I meant to say! _

Garak’s grin seemed almost predatory. “I hope you don't disappoint,” he purred, rising from his chair. Julian smiled to cover his nerves and inner conflict. “I'll see you at 2055.” Garak went to leave, but paused to lightly place his hand on Julian's shoulder. “Don't be late.” And with that, Garak left. 

Julian let out a sigh and cradled his head in his hands.  _ What am I doing? _

His self-pity was interrupted by a Ferengi waiter coming over to take his order. Julian ordered a much needed drink.

-

At 2053, Julian found himself hovering anxiously outside the door to Garak’s guest quarters. His hand fiddled with a datarod containing an annotated version of the complete works of William Shakespeare.

The door slid open and with a “Hello, doctor,” Garak ushered him inside. The quarters were about the same size as Julian's own, with a separate bedroom off of the living space. It was this bedroom that Julian was being led to, with Garak’s hand at his waist guiding him.

_ This is a terrible idea,  _ Julian thought,  _ but right now I can't find it in myself to care. _

“I-” Julian started to speak, but was stopped by Garak placing a finger on his lips.

“Stay here and don’t make a sound,” he instructed, before stepping back and closing the bedroom door between them.

Julian frowned in confusion. This was certainly shaping up to be one of the most bizarre nights he’d ever had. Then the door chime sounded again, and he could hear Garak talking to two Klingon women. Julian’s first thought was that his night was about to get more interesting than he’d anticipated, but then the subject of their conversation registered: Tahna Los, the Kohn-Ma terrorist.  _ We’re probably not having sex tonight then, if this whole thing was a ruse for me to overhear this conversation. _

Finally, the Klingons left and Garak opened the door to the bedroom, his expression relatively somber.

“Well, doctor?”

“What’s bilitrium?” Julian asked instead of any of the other questions swirling around his head.

Garak explained that, with an anti-matter converter like the one Tahna Los had already stolen, bilitrium could be used to create a bomb.

Julian frowned thoughtfully. “So you brought me here to listen in.”  _ Was that always the plan or did the situation change between now and our encounter in the replimat? _

“You sound disappointed,” Garak stated with a smirk.

“Disappointed? Me?” Julian said, startled that Garak had picked up on that. “No! Um...just confused as to why you wouldn’t be more direct…?” He shrugged helplessly.

“Would you prefer for me to be more direct?” Garak asked, taking a step closer, bringing him directly in front of Julian with barely any space between them. A shiver of excitement ran down Julian’s spine. He longed to reach out and touch Garak, but instead he took a nervous step back.

“I should report this to Commander Sisko,” he said quickly.

“Of course,” Garak replied, inclining his head and stepping aside so that Julian had a clear path to the door.

-

Julian’s nervous energy had him racing all the way to Ops and up the steps to Sisko’s office where he recounted what he’d overheard to his commander. When he was done, Sisko said, “So that's why he made an advance on you? That must be a relief.”

“Definitely, sir,” Julian replied quickly.  _ Definitely not wishing things had gone differently. Definitely not wondering if I misread the whole situation.  _ He toyed with the datarod he still held while Sisko called a meeting of the senior staff to deal with the Kohn-Ma.

-

After the situation with Tahna Los was resolved, Julian spotted Garak sitting alone at the replimat at the very table they'd properly met so few days ago. Their eyes met and Garak smiled as Julian crossed the room towards him.

“Hello, Garak,” Julian greeted, sliding into the empty seat.

“Doctor,” Garak returned, nodding his head.

“I wanted to thank you for your help with…” Julian glanced around. The replimat was not exactly a private space, and given the amount of scheming Garak had done to secretly pass on the information about Tahna Los, he probably wanted his role in the whole affair to go unmentioned. “...with everything,” Julian finished weakly.

“What a thoughtful young man,” Garak purred. The predatory grin was back on his face.

Julian smiled nervously. “I-I also wanted to give you this,” he said quickly, offering the datarod to Garak. “For our literature exchange. It's a collection of works by one of humanity's most influential authors.” Garak delicately took the datarod from Julian's fingers. “The language is archaic, but I thought it would be a good place to start.” Julian bit his lip to stop his rambling.

Garak gave him a long, thoughtful look, then smiled in a way that made Julian feel like he'd unknowingly passed some sort of test. “How delightful.” Garak pulled out a datarod of his own and placed it in Julian's hand. “Both of us had the same idea.” Julian’s fingers brushed against Garak’s cool palm as they curled around the datarod. “This is  _ The Never-Ending Sacrifice. _ It is widely considered one of the greatest works of Cardassian literature ever produced. I do hope you'll find it enlightening.” Garak smiled but there was a hint of mischief in his eyes that made Julian wonder if there was some sort of joke he was missing out on.

Julian was about to reply with an suggestion that they move this conversation somewhere private when his badge chirped. “Infirmary to Doctor Bashir.”

Startled, he jumped back, then gave Garak an apologetic look as he answered. “Bashir here.”

“Doctor, you're needed for a medical emergency.”

“I'll be there shortly. Bashir out,” he replied. Once the channel was closed, Julian let out a regretful sigh as he turned his focus back to Garak. “I'm sorry to cut our conversation short.”

“I understand,” Garak replied, his expression one of disappointed politeness. “Perhaps we could resume this the next time I'm on the station.” Garak’s tone made it clear that it wasn't a question, but he was still giving Julian a chance to back out before things progressed any further.

Julian deliberately brushed his hand against Garak's as he stood. “I'd like that very much,” he said with a smile. Then he left.

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from Romeo and Juliet, specifically the lovers' first meeting in Act 1 Scene 5 "Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again."


End file.
